


The Cure To Jack's Insomnia (is getting hit by a tuck)

by Fangirl_In_Disguise



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Felix gets kicked out of the hospital, Jack Whump, Jack gets hit by a truck, Jack has insomnia, M/M, Past sad Mark, Protective Mark, Sad Jack, Worried Mark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:31:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_In_Disguise/pseuds/Fangirl_In_Disguise
Summary: Jacks been having trouble coming to terms with both his feelings for his best friend, and his insomnia. So after getting frustrated with his family's pestering, he decides to get some fresh air, only to end up in the hospital. Jack is forced to come to terms with more than he bargained for, mainly that he managed to finally find people who actually care about him. If only he knew how to tell them (and his fans) that the reason he hasn't been online is because he's been hit by a truck.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (posted) fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcome. Please tell me what you think so far, I'll post more to this story if at least one person comments. Enjoy!

“...And I will see all you dudes… IN THE NEXT VIDEO!” Jack yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. Mark laughed, his voice jumping through Jacks speakers, causing butterflies to flutter in the irishman's stomach.

 

“That was great!” Mark exclaimed. The two youtubers had just finished playing a game of Rocket League, and Jack was still having trouble accepting the fact that he was never going to get over the crush he’s had on his idol-turned-friend, even after having been friends for years now.

 

“Yeah, but I should really go, I promised my brother I’d call him as soon as I was done recording. He hasn’t visited in awhile ya know?” Jack responded.

 

“Yeah I understand, promise to skype me tomorrow, okay? And don't stay up too late tonight.” Mark said. He had that look again. Jack didn’t like that look. He knows he jokes about how “sleep is for the weak” and all that, but his insomnia was getting to the point where just a few days, ago his mom had suggested he get it officially diagnosed. This had thrown him for a loop, since he had only ever told Mark that it was actually worth being concerned over. So the fact that she noticed too made him actually consider getting a diagnosis almost.

 

Almost. He didn't have enough time to get a good night's sleep anyway. He had to make videos, help edit them, respond to comments, socialize with friends, etc. He could survive with less than the recommended hours of sleep. But the looks Mark gave him, for some reason, made him feel guilty. Ever since Daniel, Mark (and the rest of them, to a degree) had an internal ear always tuned in to anything that could be worrying concerning friends, and it made him upset to see Jack constantly have bags under his eyes, or how he is always yawning during videos (he always edited them out, but mark noticed when they collabed together).

 

“I will,” Jack lied, timidly. Mark gave Jack his second most hated look, the one that said he knew Jack was lying. Mark opened his mouth, and Jack jumped internally. They hadn't had the serious ‘you need to get more sleep, I know you're lying to me’ talk yet. Even though Jack was sure they both knew it was getting closer. Thankfully, it didn't seem like that talk would happen today either, as Mark seemed to falter, and instead decided to say his goodbyes for the night. “Bye,” Jack responded lamely, before exiting the skype call.

 

(Time Skip)

 

Jack pulled up to the hotel his brother, Malcolm, said he was staying at, saying he booked it for a week. Jack had offered for him to stay at his apartment, but Malcolm had managed to find a hotel right between Jack's house and their parents house, so he kindly declined Jacks offer. Pulling out his phone, Jack quickly found his brothers number.

 

Jack: Hey, I’m here.

 

Malcolm: I’ll be out in a second, did you remember your controller?

 

Jack: yep

 

Jack looked over at the video game controller sitting next to his seat. He promised they’d play some games together, just like they did when they were younger. Jack looked up when he saw Malcolm exiting the hotel, and smiled. Jack was thrown off as Malcolm slowed down, his smile faltering slightly before walking over to Jack's side of the car. “What's wrong?” Jack asked, opening his window.

 

“Nothing,” Malcolm said, his smile suddenly forced. “I just haven't driven around in these parts in a while, do you you think you could let me drive?” Jack frowned, he could tell his reasoning was a lie, but he couldn’t think of a reason  _ not _ to let Malcolm drive, so he shrugged and slid into the passenger side. Malcolm seemed relieved, and quickly slumped in front of the steering wheel.

 

“What time is it?” Malcolm asked as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

 

“Uh,” Jack started, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “It's 5:52, and mom said we should try to be there between 7:30 and 8:00, so if you don't drive as terribly as you normally do, we should get there right on time.” Malcolm nodded, ignoring Jack's jab at his driving skills. Malcolm never ignored Jack's teasing. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked tentatively. Malcolm didn’t answer right away, which made Jack nervous.

 

“Sean…” He started, “you really should get more sleep.” Jack stared. Then looked back at the road in front of them, then back to Malcolm. 

 

“Is this why you didn't want me to drive?” Jack asked suddenly.

 

“Sean-”

 

“Fucking christ Malcolm I'm fine! I Can take care of myself!” Jack defended. Now he just felt like everyone was ganging up on him.

 

“Have you even seen yourself lately?” Malcolm said calmly yet factually. “You look like you haven't slept in weeks!” Jack didn’t have anything to say to that. He knew for a fact he looked like shit. Looking back in it, that was probably the reason his mom and Mark seemed more worried than usual. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin under his eyes was tinted light purple.But that doesn't mean they can start harassing him about it.

 

“I sleep practically every day!” Jack fired back.

 

“Practically?! Sean you're supposed to get _at_ _least_ six hours a day _every day_!” Now Malcolm was shouting too. And when Malcolm starts shouting about you, everyone knows it's time to start pondering your life choices. But Jack's not everyone. He grew up with Malcolm. If anyone has heard Malcolm yelling the most, it was his youngest brother.

 

“Why are we even having this conversation? Why do you even care?!” Jack didn’t like it when people waltzed into his life and tried to boss him around. Even if those people were his family and closest family. 

 

“We’ll talk about this later.” Malcolm sighed, as they pulled up to their parents house.

 

(Time Skip)

 

Dinner with his brother and parents went well. Even if at one point (as he ate his mashed potatoes) they started looking at him like he was a timebomb. “Let's watch some Star Wars” Jack's dad suggested. 

  
“We’ll play video games afterward,” Malcolm said. Mrs.Mcloughlin took the couch along with Malcolm, and Jack's dad took the recliner. That left Jack the comfy love seat. It wasn't long into the movie that Jack began to feel tired. Like, really  _ really _ tired. And maybe if he was more awake, he might have wondered why he was so tired. Or he might have noticed his family giving him sly looks. But he didn’t notice, because by the time they were 15 minutes into the movie, Jack was sound asleep.


	2. Conflicts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark gets a call from a worried friend about Jack. He and the Irishman argue.

When Jack woke up, it was to complete darkness. Which was strange, and instantly made him alert because he never fell asleep on purpose, which meant the lights were always on when he woke up. It didn't take long for the memories of last night to come rushing back to him though, and he was definitely infuriated. Jack sat up, and could just make out the form of Malcolm sleeping on the couch across the room. Looking at the digital clock under the TV, Jack saw that the time was 3:07am.

 

_ Dammit _ . He thought.  _ Too early to have a fit and wake everyone up _ . To clear his head from thoughts of dying his brothers hair in his sleep, Jack decided to take a walk. Outside. In the dark. He probably won’t be the only one having a fit when he gets back, his mom's going to be  _ pissed _ . 

 

(In America)

 

Mark stretched and looked at the clock. It was only 11ish, so he decided to answer a few comments on YouTube before going to bed.  

 

_ Great job Mark! _

 

_ I nearly choked when he started speaking with an irish accent. _

 

_ Mark you should play another gang beasts! _

 

_ A roman walks into a bar and holds up 2 fingers, ‘five beers please’ he says. _

 

_ Mark your boyfriend needs to get some sleep. _

 

Ignoring the boyfriend part of that last comment, Mark started thinking about Jack's insomnia. He was worried about his friends diminishing health. Everytime he watches one of Jack's videos, the red haired american always notices every little detail, from his unrealistically blue eyes to the dark circles that started to hang from them a few months ago. It was then that Mark recalled the enlightening conversation he had with Jack all those months ago.

 

_ “Fuck you Mark.” _

 

_ “I mean if you want to…” _

 

_ “Shut up, you know what I mean.” Mark knew it was just his hopeful imagination that made him think that Jack's cheeks darkened here. If it wasn't his imagination it must have been from frustration. _

 

_ “Hey,” Mark started, as he realized something after seeing Jack yawn. “What time is it where you are? Aren't you guys, like, five hours ahead, it's way past midnight there!” Mark saw Jack roll his bloodshot eyes through the screen.  _

 

_ “Sleep is for the weak.” Jack stated matter-of-fact. _

 

_ “You need sleep Jack.” Mark said, seriously. Jack looked up at the camera, not expecting that response from Mark.  _

 

_ “Not really,” Jack tried, but Mark wasn’t going to fall for it. “I can run on less sleep than most people-” _

 

_ “Jack i'm being serious,” Mark said, louder this time. Jack frowned and looked away from Mark. “Jack.” _

 

_ “I have insomnia,” the younger YouTuber mumbled. Mark opened his mouth, then closed it. _

 

_ “Is it diagnosed?” he finally asked. _

 

_ “No, but I can tell. I… I haven't slept in, sorta 2 days-” _

 

_ “2 days!” Mark exclaimed, Jack cringed at the sound. “Jack-” _

 

_ “I don’t wanna talk about it, Mark. You're the only person I’ve told so far…” between Jack's accent and mumbling, Mark barely understood what he was saying, but he understood the gist. That doesn’t mean that he's going to drop the subject forever. _

 

_ “Okay,” Mark said quietly. He didn’t like being quiet around Jack, that meant something was wrong with the green haired irishman. He wished Jack could be happy all the time, but he's not surprised to see Jack have sleeping problems, they’re not uncommon with people who have depression. Mark doesn't know if Jack has realized he has depression yet, but Marks had experience with it, and was devastated when he saw the early stages of it in Jack. It doesn’t seem like it's progressing quickly, but it has definitely gotten worse.  _

 

_ He wishes Jack had more friends in ireland, but Jack had told him the only people he had there were his parents, since all four of his siblings moved away.  “We’ll talk about this later,” Mark finally broke the silence. Jack nodded, looking relieved to have gotten out of talking. They ended the call, and Mark would never know Jack cried himself to sleep that night. _

 

_ But they never did talk about it. _

 

Mark was pulled from his memory by a text notification going off from his phone, then directly after getting a phone call. He stood up and walked to his bed where his phone was lying, it said ‘Felix’. “Hey dude whats up?” he answered.

 

“It's Marzia, actually,” came a high pitched voice through the phone. She sounded concerned.  But it made sense it wasn’t Felix, because he  _ hated _ talking on the phone.

 

“Oh, hey how can I help you?” he responded, not sure why Marzia would be calling him from Felix's phone.

 

“Mark, we’re worried about Jack. He seems more tired lately, and Felix just saw he's answering comments right now,” she responded slowly.

 

“Whats wrong with that?” Mark asked stupidly.

 

“It's barely 5:00 there! He never wakes up early, he hates mornings, so that means he didn't sleep last night.” she explained sadly. “Felix wants you to talk to him.” 

 

“Alright,” Mark sighed, “I will. Bye Marzia.” 

 

“Bye Mark.” She hung up. And Mark realized the text he got earlier was from Jack.

 

Jack: Hey u up?

 

Mark quickly texted back a reply.

 

Mark: Yeah, and so are you apparently.

 

Jack: My family drugged me last night.

 

Mark had to re-read that last statement. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

 

Mark: Wtf

 

Jack: I think they put sleepy medicine in my dinner last night, I woke up around 3.

 

Mark laughed. He knows he shouldn't find it funny, but if he was in ireland… well let's just say if all else failed he would probably have drugged Jack too. Mark, unlike Jack, had no problems admitting his feelings for the loud cutie with green hair. His first thought when he saw Jack's channel was,  _ Damn, I would tap that.  _ And after watching a few videos… well Mark's sure by now he's in love. Even if he'd never admit it to Jack.

 

Because Jack is straight

 

(In Ireland)

 

Mark: What’re you doing now?

 

Jack: I went for a walk, they were still sleeping when I woke up.

 

Mark: I mean you can’t blame them, they're worried about you.

 

Jack stopped walking, and pressed the call button. “Hey,” Mark answered.

 

“That doesn't give them the right to drug me though,” Jack responded, jumping right into it.

 

“Jack you’ve been a zombie lately, even your fan are noticing. They keep asking me if you're okay.” Mark said calmly. Jack was getting tired of all these people treating him like he was going to fall apart at any second.

 

“I’m  _ fine _ !” he shouted into the phone. He's a grown ass man, he can take care of himself goddammit. “Why are you all ganging up on me?!” 

 

“Jack you can’t live like this forever, you're gonna get hurt!” Now Mark was shouting to, Jack's glad he was in the middle of nowhere, he probably looked like an idiot.

 

“I don't want your help! I should never have told you anyway!”

 

“God, why can’t you just cooperate with people for once?! We’re trying to help you!”

 

“You can't force me to do what I don't wanna do!”

 

“You're so difficult, I don't even remember why I want to help you in the first place!”

 

Jack hung up at those words. For some reason he had tears in his eyes, he quickly wiped them away. He saw the sidewalk on his side of the road ended up ahead. So he quickly looked both ways before crossing the dark street.

  
The truck really should have had its headlights on.


	3. Matthias breaks the news to Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark panics when Jack goes radio silent for a few days.

Mark: Jack I'm sorry.

 

Mark: I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it.

 

Mark: Please answer me.

 

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Mark really felt guilty for what he said, and just wished Jack would answer his texts. He doesn't know what he would do if his little irishman didn't forgive him. Mark decided to distract himself, giving both himself and Jack time to cool off. Calling Wade, Mark asked him and Bob of they wanted to do some prop hunt together. 

 

After about an hour and a half of playing, Bob asked, “Hey, how's Jack?”

 

“What?” Mark replied in confusion. It was a strange question to ask, the only about Jack they’d ever ask of him is if he'd finally admitted his feelings to him. “What do you mean?”

 

“Felix and us were worried about him.” Wade supplied.  _ Is everyone worried about him? _ Mark wondered.

 

“Everyones getting worried,” Bob clarified. Game long exited, Mark sat back in his chair, and rubbed his eyes.

 

“We had a fight,” Mark mumbled through his hands. Bob and Wade looked instantly more alert than they were a few seconds ago, which was really saying something.

 

“Do you mean, like an ‘I’m angry, but I’ll forgive you eventually’ fight or a ‘Our friendship is ended’ kind of fight?” Bob asked.

 

“I don't know,” Mark sighed sadly. “I… said something I shouldn't have, and then he hung up on me.”

 

“Oh, Mark,” Wade said. “You should apologize.”

 

“I tried but he's not answering his phone,” Mark wined, feeling more heartbroken by the second. Bob and Wade looked genuinely sorry for him.

 

“I'm sure you two will be fine,” Wade reassured. At least  _ he _ looked like he believed it. Mark wasn't so sure, although he could be just worrying too much. “You and Jack will kiss and make up in no time.”

 

(Time Skip)

 

Mark was in the kitchen with Matt, Ryan, and Chica. He was pacing around, on the verge of a panic attack. 

 

“Mark, calm down,” Ryan said, lamely. 

 

“ _ CALM DOWN?! _ ” Mark quoted, only shouting. “It's been four days Ryan! Jacks never even missed  _ one _ day of posting! And he hasn't been in contact with  _ any _ of us! No Nothing!” Mark was having a meltdown of worry. “What if something serious happened to him? What if he hurt himself?” Mark seemed to collapse in on himself with these thoughts.

 

“Mark calm down, I'm sure we’ll hear from him soon,” Ryan tried again.

 

“Unless he's dead,” said a voice from the counter.

 

“Matt!” Ryan scolded. Matt just shrugged, he seemed to shut down when he was worrying about something (Or someone), and although Ryan could understand that, there was no need for comments like that. Especially in front of Mark, who just collapsed gracefully into a chair. But before anyone could say anything else, Matt got a text alert.

 

“Mark-” Ryan tried, but Matt interrupted.

 

“Guys,” he started, before flinging himself to the couch, where Ryans laptop was. Even Chica watched as he slipped on the tiled floor in his socks, landing on his ass before recovering and going to Jack's instagram with record speed.

 

“Whoh, Matt, what's going on?” Ryan said.

 

“Ken said Jack posted something on twitter,” Matt supplied. Mark flung himself to the couch even more ungracefully than Matt did. Ryan wasn't far behind. Chica was oblivious to why her person and his roommates were acting so strange, and jumped up on the opposite side of Mark. Together, the three youtubers read the tweet.

 

jacksepticeye @Jack_Septic_Eye

Hello everyone, Sean is going to be absent from YouTube for a while, just think of it as a long overdue vacation. 

 

“Who posted this?” asked Ryan. “It says ‘Sean’ so it wasn’t Jack.” Just then Mark received a text notification. It was Matthias. All it said was four words. Four words that Mark will never forget.

 

Matthias: Jacks in the hospital.

 

(Somewhere Near Matthias’s House)

 

Matthias was sitting outside the restaurant on the curb, his head in his hands. Jack's brother Malcolm had texted him, telling him Jack had been involved in hit and run, and asked him if he could either tell Jacks other friends, (Malcolm only had Matthias's number, and Jacks phone was ruined) or send him their numbers so he could tell them himself. Matthias informed him that he would tell them. As hard as it would be to tell Mark and the others Jack is in a coma, he imagined it would be harder for Malcolm.

 

The first person he texted was (obviously) Mark. He should have called him, it wasn't really the kind of information you wanted to hear from text, but even if Matthias was in his right mind, he wouldn’t have been able to form coherent sentences. Jack's lack of communication and content had them all worried, and combined with Luna’s midnight crying, he and Amanda decided to go out for dinner to get a break. 

 

That's when after four days of contemplating what to do, Malcolm and his parents decided to inform the fans Jack won't be uploading very soon, and his friends that he was in hospital. They were going to tell them when Jack woke up, that hasn't happened yet but they figured his friends waited long enough.

 

Amanda walked out of the restaurant. She had stayed inside to pay for their food while Matthias texted Mark. Thankfully, Mark didn’t call back until they were back in the car, so Matthias was able to put him on bluetooth while Amanda drove (there was no way he could drive right now). “Hey, Mark,” Matthias greeted.

 

“Matthias what…” Mark's voice was filled with dread.

 

“It's Jack, he got hit by a truck. The driver got caught, but… jesus Mark Jack's been in a coma for the last four days,” he explained.

 

“Is he gonna be okay? How did you find out?” Ryans voice asked through the car speakers.

 

“His brother called me, he said it all depends if he wakes up.”

 

Matt's voice piped up in the background, “Mark, where are y-”

 

“Ireland.” Mark said determinedly over his shoulder.

 

After a few hours of talking, (and manly tears) it was decided that Mark, Felix, Wade, Marzia, and Ken would fly out to Ireland and be with Jack. Those who couldn’t go, (Matt, Ryan, Matthias, Amanda, Bob, and Chica) would be regularly updated. Malcolm was going to pick them up from the airport, take them to a hotel, drop off their stuff, and go straight to the hospital.

  
It was going to be a long week. 


	4. Wake Up Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group heads off to Ireland and sees Jack in hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping, so please enjoy :)

After literally (for lack of a better word) _throwing_ their suitcases into their respected hotel rooms, the five YouTubers and Malcolm headed directly to the hospital, just as they planned. Mark had been tapping his fingers constantly on the van's door for a majority of the ride, but no one had the heart to ask him to stop, or tell him it probably wasn't safe to have your hand positioned on the door handle for that matter.

 

Everyone stared when they pulled up to the hospital and parked by the doors. They were all still, waiting for somebody else to make the first move. Finally Mark couldn’t take the tension anymore, and he threw the car door open. Mark sprinted through the hospital entrance, the rest not far behind. They were all well aware they probably looked like crap, the jet lag already affecting them, but they found it was difficult to care when you were worried about a friend.

 

After playing a short game of hot potato with the visitors sign in sheet, the group followed Malcolm to the elevator. While listening to the cheezy elevator music, waiting to reach the third floor, Malcolm said, “I know… I just want you all to be prepared, Sean doesn't look too good. He's pretty beaten up.” They all nodded, none of them knowing what to say.

 

“If… when he wakes up, will he have any permanent damage?” Marzia asked timidly.

 

“Thankfully no.” Malcolm said, glad he finally had some information that could be considered relieving. “The truck driver hit the brakes just in time, aside from a sprained leg and some dislocated ribs, Jacks seems to be fine.”

 

“Except for the fact that he's in a coma,” Mark said darkly. Malcolm squinted at Mark, and opened his mouth to say something, but Felix put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. It was then that everyone else simultaneously realized Malcolm was the only person in the elevator that didn't know about Mark's feelings Jack. Little did they know he was the _only_ _one_ who knew about his brothers crush on Mark.

 

As they exited the elevator, Malcolm was keeping a close eye on Mark. He was beginning to think his little brothers feelings weren't quite as unrequited as he had thought.

 

Mark had been following so close behind Malcolm, he nearly ran into him when he stopped outside of Jack's door. “Ready?” Malcolm asked. They all nodded vigorously. Malcolm opened the door. Ken looked away, Marzia started crying and scurried off, Felix went after her, Wade sucked in a deep breath. Mark just gaped, tears blurring his eyes.

 

The hospital bed looked extremely big compared to Jack. There was no question he lost a lot of weight between the last time Mark saw him and now. All he was wearing was a baby blue hospital gown and black socks, which left lots of his injuries visible. It was obvious the truck had hit him from the right, because that's the mostly damaged side. He had a cast on his right knee, a big yellow bruise under his right eye, the right side of his lower lip was split and had obviously been stitched, and he had a cast covering his forearm and elbow, as well as other colorful bruises that painted his body. The only injuries visible on the left side of him, were a scrape on his left cheek from his head hitting the ground, and a small cast on his wrist, from the angle he fell on it, along with some speckles of purple here and there.

 

Mark walked forward cautiously, wishing more than anything that Jack would just open his gorgeous blue eyes and give Mark one of his big goofy smiles. But he didn’t. He couldn't even breath on his own right now, he had one of those plastic tube thingies placed under his nose. Pulling a chair up to the head of Jack's bed without breaking eye contact, as if Jack would disappear if he did, Mark sat down, and practically confirmed Malcolm earlier suspicion when he gently laced his fingers with Jack's boney ones. All the world lost to the americans senses, except Jack and the steady beep of the heart monitor.

 

Malcolm quietly shut the door to Jack's room, without anyone else having even gone through it. “Tell everyone to meet in the cafeteria.” he said to Wade, before walking back in the direction they came from.

 

After sending texts to the rest of the group, Wade and Ken headed after Malcolm to the cafeteria. When everyone had settled down at the table, Malcolm suddenly broke through the silence, “Does Mark have feelings for my brother?” Everyone stared at him, before exchanging glances with each other.

 

“Uh…” Ken said, not sure how to continue.

 

“‘Cause if he does, you should know that Jack has had a crush on him since before Mark even knew who he was, and he's just been falling harder and harder as time goes by.”

 

“I _fucking_ knew it!” Felix exclaimed after a tense moment of silence, jumping in his seat. Marzia smiled at her boyfriend, still watery eyed about Jack. “The little bastard kept denying it though.” They all laughed, grateful for the momentary relief from Jack's current predicament.

 

(To Mark and Jack)

 

Everything was numb. Except for his hand, his hand for some reason was all warm and tingly. It was a nice, comforting kind of tingly. It was Jack's warm sense of safety that made him able to properly wake up without making any noticeable change in his heartbeat. But for some reason, he didn't have the will or strength to open his eyes. So instead he decided to ponder his current position, of rather, what it could be.

 

He didn't seem to be panicking, and he doubted it was solely because of the person holding his hand, so he was probably on some kind of drug, which would also explain the numbness in his body. What was the last thing he remembered? Malcolm had been asleep on the couch, he had gone for a walk, fought with Mark… then what? The sidewalk ended, and he was halfway across the street when his memory refused to remember more.

 

Jack figured if he wanted more information, he was going to have to ask the person holding his hand, who he assumed was Malcolm.

 

Mark looked at the heart monitor when the steady rhythm of his irishman's heart rate spiked, then looked down into pools of deep blue. Nither of them said anything for a moment. “Mark?” Jack wondered, breaking the silence. Just them two nurses came in started interrogating Jack, and explaining what happened vs what he remembered, making sure he didn't have any lasting head trauma. They hadn’t seen anything when they subjected him to an x-ray, but you can never be to sure.

 

After they left, Jack refused to make eye with Mark. Mark sighed, “Jack-”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jack interrupted. Still not meeting Mark's gaze. But Mark didn't come all the way to ireland just to have Jack apologizing for… for, what was he even apologizing for?

 

“For what?” Mark asked.

 

“For being such a burden,” Jack mumbled, without hesitation. Mark couldn't take it anymore, he started sobbing violently into his hands, from relief that his love was physically okay, and from worry that he mentally was not. “Mark?” Jack questioned worriedly. _Ha, he's the one in hospital and he's worried about me,_ Mark thought dryly. Jack already didn't know what to do, but he was thrown for an even bigger loop when Mark suddenly sat facing Jack on his bed, and placed his hands on both sides of the green haired mans face, his own face mere inches apart.

 

“You have absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry for,” Mark stressed breathlessly, his voice strained with emotion. Jack's eyes were wide, and he could feel tears threatening to fill them. “You have _never_ been and _never will be_ , a burden. You have friends who _care_ about you and would _never_ want you as _anything_ but yourself. And most of all, if you _ever_ doubt that I _wouldn’t_ do _anything_ for you again, I will personally swim across the Atlantic and show up on your doorstep soaking wet and squeeze the insecurities right out of you myself. Don't you _ever_ scare me like that _ever again_ ,” Mark continued, praying Jack would realize how much he meant to the world. “You're perfect _just_ the way you are, I wouldn't want you _any_ other way.”

 

Mark finished his speech by pulling Jack's head to his chest as the younger sobbed violently into his sweatshirt, soaking it. Mark pressed multiple chaste kisses to the top of Jack's green hair, and wrapped his arms loosely yet protectively around his injured form. It was then that Mark realized that he would do absolutely _anything_ to keep this person, who he loved more than he could ever hope to explain, safe from his insomnia, safe from his depression, and anything else that would ever try to hurt him. Mark would be there. For all of it.

  
The YouTubers conspiring downstairs would make sure of it.


	5. I'm In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda Slow Moving But Hopefully Cute

After being asleep for four days, Jack was ready to jump out of bed and be productive... much to Mark's dismay. Jack had tried to get out of bed until Mark sat next to him, pushing his shoulders back.   
  
"How are you feeing Seán?" A doctor asked upon entering. He had on the stereotypical white lab coat and stethoscope around his neck.   
  
"Really good considering the circumstances," Jack replied, voice hoarse and quiet. He felt Mark's gaze suddenly burning holes into his skull; though he decided to ignore it, opting instead to seek an escape. He's always despised doctors and hospitals. "When am I allowed to leave?" He continued, aware that if the doctor weren't present Mark would be chewing him out, probably saying something about how he's incapable of taking care of himself and needed to stay in hospital.   
  
"Well since you seem to be feeling well enough, as long as you promise to take regular pain medication I suppose we could discharge you tonight," the doctor replied smiling.   
  
"You don't want to keep an eye on him for the night? Just to make sure he'll be okay?" Mark interjected. Jack whipped his head in his friends direction, sending him a stern glare that was meant to deter Mark, but instead made Mark glare back, which in turn made Jack shrink back and blush. Man the medications really messing with his head, not that he'd admit that out loud.   
  
"I think as long as somebody's keeping an eye on him his recovery will be quite swift. You were very lucky Mr. McLaughlin." The doctor replied, visibly smirking at the silent exchange between the two on the hospital bed. He bid farewell to them and told Jack to take his time getting ready to leave the hospital and to make sure to check out etc etc etc.   
  
Jacks face sobered up once the doctor closed the door behind him. Mark saw the change in expression and decided against his previous objective to lecture Jack about health and smart decisions, and instead leaned in closer to him, resting his weight on his arm which was behind where Jack was sat up. "What are you thinking?" Mark asked gently. There was so much for Jack to be concerned about: his channel, recovery, and friends/family. Mark wanted to take away all the burdens Jack may be feeling and just take care of him. There was no way he was leaving Ireland until Jack was as bouncy and optimistic as he used to be.   
  
"Why are you here?" Jack breathed. Mark's heart shattered at the sound. Jack still didn't realize how much people cared about him. Clearly his depression had developed faster than Mark anticipated, and now he was realizing he should have done something as soon as he saw the signs.   
  
"I'm here because I care about you..." Mark whispered. "Because I said something I didn't mean, and I thought it would be the last thing I would get so say to you." Mark leaned closer in towards Jack, resting their heads together as Jack stared at his lap with silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Mark continued, his low gentle voice barley louder than a breath. "I'm here because I thought I was going to lose you..." Mark's touch was feather light on Jack's arm above the cast, tracing lightly over the black and red bruises. "And I didn't want to lose you," Mark choked out, beginning to cry along with Jack. He felt the injured man lean into him, as if assuring him of his presence. Mark gently pulled him in closer to his side, being overly gentle of Jacks injured body. He felt Jack nuzzle his nose into Mark's neck, and he was beginning to be more comfortable now that he knew Jack was alive and breathing. The past couple days he himself had not been sleeping or eating well, and feeling Jack right next to him, injured but alive, made him feel more content than he had felt in years.   
  
(In the Cafeteria)   
  
"Mr. McLaughlin?" Said a nurse appearing out of nowhere. The group (consisting of Felix, Marzia, Ken, Wade, and Malcolm) turned to her.   
  
"Yes, that's me," Malcolm responded. The nurse looked at him and paused, trying to find the right wording.   
  
"I'm here to tell you that your brother woke up, I thought you would like to-" she decided to not finish the sentence, as everyone had already sprang up and sprinted into the elevator. She meekly shrugged her shoulders with a small smile and continued with her other duties.   
  
Felix tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator doors to open, most of the others had similar looks of impatience plastered on their own faces. The doors opened with a light 'ding', and Malcolm was the first one out and down the hall, with the others staying close behind.   
  
The door being thrown open so suddenly caused Mark to look up and Jack to flinch before also looking towards the group.   
  
"Seán," Malcolm sighed, relieved.   
  
"Malcolm," Jack responded, he looked like a small child once the two brothers embraced, Jacks lithe frame being engulfed by his brothers arms. Several others ushered over to the bed as well, and Jack abruptly dropped his jaw, looking timid.   
  
"What are you all doing here?" He asked in as loud a voice as he could manage, which was about as loud as an average speaking voice. There was a slightly tense moment as the others exchanged concerned expressions.   
  
"We were worried about you, man," Felix replied, looking more concerned than Mark had ever seen. Jack was Felix's closest friend, and he was often the most sincere when around the green haired man.   
  
"But..." Jack tried, however he was at a loss for words. He couldn't understand how a person- let alone a group of people- could care enough about him to hop in a plane and find him. The group seemed to read his thoughts from his expression, so Felix decided to continue.    
  
"We'd do anything for you man; you're our family." Jack's lips twitched for a moment before he leaned forward, head in his hands and he began to cry once again. He leaned back into Mark's shoulder, as the older man was conveniently still siting on the bed right beside him. Jack drew his good leg up and curled in on himself, while Mark double checked that he wasn't being hurt. Malcolm was kneeling beside Jack rubbing his back comfortingly, tears brimming in his own eyes.   
  
"You're gonna be okay, Jack," Mark whispered into said mans hair, loud enough for only the two of them. It didn't take long for sleep to once again take hold of the little Irish man; an injured body pumped full of pain medication can really make one tired, particularly after a good cry.   
  
"He's really bad..." Ken supplied after a long contemplative silence where the group had silently listened to Jacks steady breathing.   
  
"So it's agreed then?" Malcolm asked. The group nodded- with the exception of Mark.   
  
"What are you guys talking about?" He inquired. A few of them exchanged sly smirks that Mark didn't like one bit. It was Wade who replied.   
  
"We were talking downstairs, and decided all of us -except Malcolm- would be staying with Jack to help him recover... some of us were doubtful at first that he _needed_ that much support, but now..."   
  
"So were all just inviting ourselves into his apartment for an undetermined amount of time?" Mark rephrased.   
  
"... yeah," Felix laughed. "Pretty much." Mark looked down at the sleeping form still pressed into his left side; he saw a bruised face with tear stains, and knew he could never leave him.   
  
"I'm in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love getting reviews so any comments are welcomed!!!


	6. Passing Time

When Jack next woke, it was to the sound of gentle conversation, quiet enough not to disturb him while he slept. He kept as still as he could, deciding instead to take the time to gather his senses and not be overwhelmed. The very first thing he became aware of was the feeling of gentle pressure on his arm, just shy of his shoulder. He felt the pressure- which he assumed to be a hand- rub up and down delicately, only stopping occasionally, at which time he felt a thumb caressing his skin lightly. The touch felt absentminded, as if the person doing it was only doing so because of a subconscious desire. He didn’t want to make assumptions about who it was.   
  
The next thing he focused on was the voices, all of which were muffled but familiar. He struggled to understand what they were saying, so he decided instead to attempt to identify the people speaking, but he struggled with distinguishing that too, and was about to move on when a deep voice, closer than the others, began speaking softly. Jack could feel the vibration from the voice traveling through his broken body, enveloping him in a blanket of shrouded safety.   
  
“Mark,” He croaked. He didn’t notice he had spoken aloud until the conversation around him ceased  and the comforting hand on his shoulder stilled its movement.   
  
Mark pretended to not notice the suspicious eyes of his friends on the back of his skull after his name had left the injured mans mouth. “Jack? Can you hear me?” Jack shuffled on the bed, and Mark cautiously lifted his hand, allowing Jack to move freely; although he still had it hovering over the man protectively in case Jack needed assistance. Jack managed to scoot himself so he was propped up against the headboard of the bed. He looked around at the people surrounding him, once again wondering why they were all there to begin with.   
  
“How ya feeling bud?” Ken asked.   
  
“Better,” Jack replied hoarsely, he cleared his throat, embarrassed at having sounded so pathetic. “Can we go now?” Jack asked, looking to his older brother. Malcolm nodded; he was the only one present who knew of Jacks horrible fear of hospitals, most childhood fears are grown out of once you become and adult, but this one looked like it would be staying with Jack. “Of course we can Seán.”   
  
A nurse came in and brought a wheelchair, which Jack openly glared at like it was the plague. After changing out of the hospital gown and putting on a T-shirt and large sweatpants Malcolm had retrieved from Jacks apartment, Mark gently reached around his back and helped him stand and shuffle into the offending chair. before leaving the nurse had said he would have been able to use crutches of it weren’t for the cast on his right arm and the one in his left wrist. Surprisingly his leg was supposed to heal before those two injuries.   
  
Of course Mark was the one pushing the chair, he didn’t even look around to see the others reactions, knowing his friends would all look to much into the action. 

Jack tried to not let on that the bright lights of the hospital were bothering him, but Wade caught his eye and Jack knew he could see it in his expression. He watched as Wade waited a few minutes before whispering to Malcolm, trying to not make it obvious to him, even though he was watching the exchange bitterly.   
  
Jack felt relief flood his body when the elevator doors opened and revealed the glass hospital doors. It was a cloudy day, he suspected there was a decent chill in the air considering the month they were in. He breathed in the sweet moist air as Felix held open the door for Mark to push him out. He looked around, now having a better view, he now recognized the hospital, he remembered bringing his brother Simon here a few years ago. Jack was 17, he didn’t have a permit so technically it was illegal for him to drive, but Simon's hand had gotten stepped on by the neighbor's horse so _he_ wasn’t going to drive.   
  
It was then that Jack came back to reality, seeing Malcolm’s van only a few feet away. Suddenly he gripped the wheels of the chair he was in, forcing it to come to a stop while he ignored the pain shifting up his arms.   
  
“Woah, Jack!” Mark stammered, knowing the action must've been painful. He moved in front of Jack and crouched down all in one motion. He was about to un-pry Jack's hands from the chair when he saw the expression on the Irishman’s face. Jack looked fearful. Mark turned to follow his gaze and only saw the van. It was then that he realized what was causing Jack's fear.   
  
“Hey,” he whispered. Jack's gaze dropped to Marks, his expression not changing. “You’re safe, we’re here for you.” Jack was still for a moment before nodding. Felix, Marzia, and Ken all clambered into the third row seats before Mark helped Jack into the middle row. After holding up his hands and retreating to the other side of the car to seat himself because “I can buckle my own fookin’ seat belt Mark”, Malcolm started the car, with Wade in the passenger seat beside him. The ride was uneventful, Jack stopped looking out the window after a while, feeling nauseous. Mark resisted the urge to reach out to him in front of everybody else in the car. Pulling up to Jack's apartment, Mark didn’t fail to notice the breath Jack let out. He had a lot of healing to do, both physically and mentally.   
  
(((((-3 weeks later-)))))   
  
Mark watched Jack carefully take a sip of his coffee with his newly cast-free left hand. The previous day he had taken Jack back to the hospital for a checkup and to get the casts on his left hand and right knee off. Jack had looked nervously excited during the process, but that look quickly faded when the doctor said he would need to keep the cast on his right arm, and his ribs were not healing as well as hoped. He prescribed a few medications for this and that in hopes of making sure Jacks ribs heal quickly and correctly. Once the doctor left Jack immediately hopped down from the table, taking 10 years off Marks life in the process. Jack smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing to his friend, and believing he thoroughly deserved it after mother-henning for the past few weeks.   
  
“Ready?” Jack smiled.   
  
“Yeah,” Mark responded, trying not to sound too breathless. Malcolm was waiting for them downstairs, he would have joined them but he had gotten a call from work that was “urgent”, and totally not an excuse to leave the two alone together. The plan to get Mark and Jack together was not yet successful, and had been a lot harder ever since Wade and Marzia were forced to go back to their homes.   
  
“How’s he doing?” Malcolm asked, startling Mark from his thoughts of the past few days as Jack placed the mug down.   
  
“Why don’t yeh ask me yer-self .” Jack said bitterly, not looking in their direction. It was not a question, he knew they didn’t trust him to give them an honest answer. And what made it worse was that he knew taht they were right. He’d rather suffer in silence than admit that his ribs were aching especially painfully today.   
  
“I don’t know,” Mark answered Malcolm, ignoring Jack's statement while throwing him a sympathetic look. “He’s getting better at hiding it.” Jack lifted his mug again to hide his bitter smile. He really cared for Mark, but he knew the other was only here out of pity. He couldn't wait until the American left, even though thinking about it made his chest clench painfully.   
  
“Why don’t I go out an’ get groceries?” Malcolm suggested. “Felix? Ken? Do you guys want anything?”    
  
“Why don’t we go with you?” Ken suggested, emerging from the guest room he and Ken shared. Mark had been sharing the other room with Wade until the other had gone back to the States.   
  
“That sounds like a great idea,” Malcolm responded, his Irish accent thick. The underlying meaning of their words went right over Mark and Jacks heads.   
  
“I’ll see yah in a bit Seán,” Malcolm said, placing his hand gently on his brothers head affectionately before exiting with Ken and Felix; leaving Mark and Jack alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment your thoughts and ideas! I love hearing from you guys! :)


	7. Frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Mark are both tired of each others behavior.

Jack stared at the doorway where his brother had retreated through. Malcolm was really the only one there Jack trusted. He loved his friends to bits but he knew they didn’t feel the same about him; which made them being here was hard for him. He didn't understand; sure he still had severe bruising on his torso and face, but that wasn't anything he couldn't handle on his own. He lifted his un-bandaged left hand to brush some faded green locks from his face. He suddenly hissed harshly, unable to mask the surprising amount of pain the motion had caused his ribs. Mark was out of his chair in an instant, ready to mother him no doubt.  
  
“I’m fookin’ fine,” Jack snapped. He didn’t apologize much anymore for snapping at Mark, knowing the American would continue to do things that warranted his harsh tone. None of the others did anything that made him snap at them.  
  
“That didn’t sound like a noise someone who was ‘fine’ would make,” Mark shot back. Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Mark had already turned from Jack's chair and made his way to the medicine cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of pills, Jack wasn’t sure which one it was, but that didn’t stop him from jumping up as he ignored the pain in his ribs, and snatching the bottle from Mark's hands. Mark turned to Jack, his mouth open slightly and his eyes widened from surprise.  
  
“If I want these, I’ll ask for them,” Jack yelled through gritted teeth. He knew it was only the pain that was making him so responsive, but he didn’t have the strength to care. Mark's mouth closed, and an angry expression came over his face. Jack hesitated for a moment, though he didn’t let it show in his face. Mark had been many things the past three weeks. Worried, frustrated, sad, exasperated, and he would glare at Jack to convey his disapproval, but in those few weeks he had never gotten angry.  
  
Mark was done with Jack's attitude. He knew he was being harsh with the guy, but Jack wouldn’t take care of himself otherwise. Now it seemed as though they had both reached their limits.  
  
Without breaking eye contact, Mark reached back into the cupboard and pulled out another bottle with the same looking pills as the one Jack currently held. Looking down, Jack noticed that the bottle in his hand had only a few pills left, and the one Mark had was the refill the doctor had given them the previous day.  
  
Jack swiped his good arm out for the full bottle, but Mark was prepared. He grabbed the upper part of Jack's arm, avoiding the area that had just been un-casted. Jack struggled in his grasp, but Mark had been stronger than he before the accident, and now Jack's body was even weaker. Fortunately for him though, Mark was not using as much strength as he could, even then thinking about Jack's injuries. Jack thrashed and twisted, striving to grasp the cursed bottle and release himself from Marks hold.  
  
“Calm down!” Mark yelled. He wouldn’t relent and hand the bottle over, but he would be devastated if Jack got more hurt, even in his current anger. Jack didn’t grace him with a response, instead retaliating by pushing the other man's chest harshly. He kept trying, he knew Mark's patience was wearing thin, he hoped that meant the elder would leave him alone, even if it meant returning to America. He hoped Mark would eventually give up and let Jack take the bottle, though he wasn’t sure what he would do once he had it. ‘ _If I could just_ ,-“  
  
SMACK  
  
Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain in his rear, making his outstretched arm recoil back. He gaped at Mark, eyes wide in shock, his jaw to the floor as his hands covered his stinging behind. Mark took a step closer, causing Jack to lean back in uncertainty.  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ try something like that again,” Mark scolded, as if he were talking to a misbehaving child. “I am here to _help_ you, and if you _won’t_ let me do that: I will drive you back to that hospital _right_ _now_.” He made sure to enunciate every word clearly, making sure no doubt could be made about the statement. “Do you understand that?” Jack stared at him, dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Understand?” Mark repeated harshly. For lack of knowing how else to respond, Jack nodded silently. Mark filled a glass with water and handed both that and two pills to the Irishman, who took them complacently.  
  
Mark watched his friends throat bob up and down before sighing and leaning against the cool countertop. He braced one hand on the solid counters edge and used the other to rub at his eyes. “Come here,” he said. He extended the arm that had been grasping the counter out towards Jack, who took a few cautious steps forward, setting the glass down with a quiet “cling”. Mark tugged Jack towards him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's shoulders, not wanting to touch his healing ribs. Jack placed his hands on the sides of Marks torso, accepting the hug but not fully reciprocating it. He felt Marks breathing in the crook of his neck, despite being a few inches shorter, and he forced himself not to shiver at the ghostly feeling.  
  
“Why can’t you just let us help you?” Mark asked rhetorically. Jack considered responding sarcastically, but his stinging ass argued against. Instead he closed his eyes and pressed his face into Mark's shoulder, hoping Mark couldn’t tell he was breathing in his familiar scent.  
  
They eventually walked into the small living room to watch the first couple Pirates of the Caribbean movies, only saying a few words during the most interesting scenes. Mark considered apologizing for striking Jack, even if it was just a slap on the ass. He hadn’t meant for it to be so hard, but it seems to get the message across. He didn’t regret it, so any apology would be fabricated.  
  
“We’re back!” Felix announced as he walked through the doorway, Malcolm and Ken close behind. Malcolm’s smile lessened when he saw how far Mark and Jack were seated from one another, wondering why it was taking so long for the two to admit their feelings.  
  
“Did we miss anything interesting while we were gone?” Ken asked. Mark felt Jack's eyes on the side of his head, waiting for him to reply first.  
  
“Not much, Jack had to take some pain meds because he moved wrong and hurt his ribs, but other than that we’ve just been sitting here.” Jack relaxed slightly, relieved Mark had left out a few choice details.  
  
“Did you take em’ without much of a fight, Seánie?” Malcolm asked his brother as he helped the others put groceries away.  
  
“Ach amháin mar gheall Mark tá sé dúr,” Jack replied. Malcolm laughed as the others looked at each other in confusion. Felix mouthed “what?” to Mark, who just shrugged his shoulders in reply. He had no idea what Jack said, but he had a feeling he didn’t have anything nice to say.  
  
“Well, it’s getting kinda late, why don’t yeh all head up ta bed and I’ll see ya in ta mornin’?” Malcolm suggested, an amused smile still on his lips. The others mumbled various agreements before all heading towards their respective rooms, bidding Malcolm a farewell. Jack gave his brother a hug, something which surprised the older man.  
  
“G’night Mal,” Jack said before following the others up the stairs. He knew he wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon, his insomnia having returned completely, but he wasn’t about to let the others in on that fact.  
  
After having long since having heard Malcolm's car pull out from the driveway, and with the sound of Ken's gentle snoring coming from the next room, Jack stool from where he had been leaning against the wall his bed was pushed against. He tiptoed his way down the staircase, trying to make as little noise as possible. He reached the bottom and let out a breath, proud of himself for not waking his sleeping friends.  
  
“What are you doing?” Came a deep voice from the darkness of the kitchen.  
  
“Oh god,” Jack jumped, startled by the unexpected voice. “Mark, what are you doing up?”  
  
“I had to message Ethan about scheduling, what’s your excuse?” Mark replied instantly. Jack looked to the stove, which showed the time to be 11:58.  
  
“I...” he trailed off. He wanted to think of an excuse, but he knew it was too late. Just by putting so much effort into sneaking down the stairs he had doomed himself. Mark walked over to the medicine cabinet that hung above the counter. By now Jack had day dreamed of several ways to destroy that cabinet, many that involved fire, but he figured that would be a little rash. Mark opened the doors and pulled out a new bottle, one that had been hidden behind several other of the medical supplies.  
  
“I’m not taking those,” Jack said instantly. Mark hadn’t even had a chance to turn towards him before the words were spoken. “You can make me take pain meds, but I don’t need _those_ , I sleep fine.” Mark turned towards him, a look of similar anger to the one before plastered on his face. Jack wasn't sure why he was so against taking them, he knew they wouldn't do anything, and there was no harm in humoring Mark. But for some reason, Jack's mouth was not consulting him that night. “You can shove those ones up your ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!! Please comment your thoughts! Even if you just wanna say you liked it that would mean the world to me <3


End file.
